The Grieving Tree

CHAPTER 21

They left the chamber of Taruuzh’s tomb and climbed back up the stairs by the glow of a light conjured by Singe, each of them leaning on the other for support. As Singe’s light finally flashed on the roof and walls of the upper passage, Ashi’s voice echoed down to them. “Rond betch! You’re alive! What happened to Hruucan?”

“Taruuzh got in another battle against the servants of Xoriat,” said Dandra.

She mounted the last few steps then gratefully reached for Ashi’s hand as the hunter extended her arm. She couldn’t hold back a gasp of surprise, though, at the sight of Ashi’s skin. What she had glimpsed as shadowy stripes in the chaos of combat were actually bold and colorful lines that patterned her arms and her face.

“Il-Yannah, Ashi! That’s a dragonmark!”

“It’s a Siberys dragonmark,” Singe said, accepting the support of Ashi’s other arm. “The Siberys mark of Sentinel. I don’t think there’s going to be any question of whether you’re part of House Deneith now, Ashi.”

Ashi looked at Dandra. “It just happened,” she said. “When Dah’mir called you to him, I tried to stop you but I couldn’t quite reach you. I wanted to protect you more than anything else-and suddenly it was like something woke up inside me. It felt like I burned my fingers where I touched you, but instead …”

Dandra remembered the brush of the hunter’s touch on her back. She drew a long breath. “You did protect me, Ashi. Whatever power is in that dragonmark, it was enough to break Dah’mir’s hold on me.”

“And Tetkashtai’s hold on your powers?”

The breath Dandra had drawn hissed out. “Not exactly,” she said slowly.

Singe blinked. “Don’t tell me it reversed what Dah’mir did to you?” He stiffened. “No-if it had, you’d be Tetkashtai.”

Dandra raised her chin. “I’m not,” she said, then touched the dead crystal around her neck. “Not much anyway. I started out as part of Tetkashtai-now she’s part of me. I absorbed her.”

“She’s dead?”

“Only the worst of her.”

“Twelve bloody moons.”

They emerged into the great chamber of Taruuzh Kraat and Dandra stared at the scene revealed as Singe’s magical light joined guttering torchlight. Tzaryan Rrac, his chest and arm still burned, and Robrand d’Deneith, his face pale and his eyes hard, had their backs against the platform where the grieving tree had stood, held at bay by Geth. Wrath’s blade reflected only a dull purple gleam. Natrac, looking drained and weak, leaned against the platform as well, while on top of it, Ekhaas crouched over Orshok. As Dandra watched, she pressed a hand to the young orc’s chest and lifted her head in song. Once again, Dandra felt the raw energy of the duur’kala’s magic tug at her. Orshok spasmed and he cried out, but Ekhaas looked satisfied.

“He’ll survive,” she said.

Singe choked and cursed again. “Geth, what are you doing?”

“Holding prisoners,” the shifter growled. Singe let go of Ashi’s arm and staggered over to him.

“You’re not holding anybody,” he said. “First-that’s Robrand.” The wizard pulled Geth’s sword arm down, then pointed at Tzaryan. “Second-he’s an ogre mage. He can fly. Your sword’s not stopping him.”

Geth looked confused, then bared his teeth. “What’s he still doing here then?”

“I didn’t become a warlord of Droaam by not knowing when to talk instead of fight,” said Tzaryan. He drew himself up straight and his black eyes glittered. “Dah’mir abandoned me. I can’t forgive that. You’re no friends to me, but it seems to me that the greatest revenge I can inflict on him is to let you go.”

“Let us go?” asked Geth. He started to raise his sword, but Singe pushed it down again.

“Agreed,” he said. He stepped aside and gestured for the ogre mage to leave. Tzaryan bent his head.

“I’ll leave horses and your gear by the gates of my keep. Take them and ride. I don’t want to see you again.” He looked at Ekhaas and added, “You would be wise to go, too. My ogres are going to have orders to kill you on sight.”

Ekhaas’s ears stood up straight and her hand twitched toward her sword, but Tzaryan turned his back on her and strode toward the stairs out of the great chamber. After a few paces, though, he paused and glanced over his shoulder, frowning. “General, aren’t you coming with me?”

Dandra saw surprise pass over Robrand’s face. “My lord? I failed you.”

“My ogres failed me, General,” said Tzaryan. “They ran. You’re still here.”

Robrand stiffened and stood tall. “My feelings for Etan led me to conceal what I knew of his purpose here, my lord.”

Tzaryan’s eyes narrowed. “You said that you had given them no information or aid to dishonor our contract. Is that the truth?”

Robrand nodded tightly.

Tzaryan’s wide mouth curved into a somber frown. “Knowledge is gold to those who value it,” he said, “and I value what the lords of Deneith would cast aside. But your old command is gone, Robrand. I expect your full loyalty. Say your farewells.”

Robrand gave him another curt nod and turned to Singe. To Dandra it seemed that the hard, cold man she had first met in Vralkek had returned-the warm friend who had shared stories with them on the road was gone once more. Singe seemed to see that change, too. For a moment, he looked lost. “Robrand,” he said, “you don’t have to stay. Come with us. I understand why you didn’t think you could do anything-”

The old man’s lined face tightened. “If you understood, Etan, you wouldn’t speak of it. I have a contract to honor. And you-” His eyes darted past Singe to rest briefly on Geth. “-you have friends.”

Singe’s lips pressed together for a moment, then he stood respect and bent his head. “It was a pleasure to serve with you, commander,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You are the most honorable man I’ve ever known.”

An image of Geth, bound and bloodied in Tzaryan’s dungeon, rose in Dandra’s memory and anger made her catch her breath. Geth, though, glanced over his shoulder and shook his head sharply. Don’t say anything, he mouthed silently. Dandra reached out and touched his mind with kesh. Why not? she demanded.

Because Singe doesn’t need to know right now, Geth told her. He’s already saying good-bye to a hero.

Dandra watched Robrand return Singe’s nod-and turn away, falling in at Tzaryan’s side and climbing out of the great chamber without saying anything more. Pain filled Singe’s eyes as he watched his old commander go. Dandra’s anger faded. She stepped forward and put her hand on Singe’s shoulder. “We should leave, too,” she said.

The night was cool when they stepped out of Taruuzh Kraat. Dandra, Geth, and Ekhaas stared in amazement at the open trench that the entrance to ancient ruins had become. “Dah’mir,” Singe said wearily.

“Khaavolaar,” said Ekhaas.

Singe looked out into the night. Dah’mir’s herons were gone, perhaps after their vanished master. Tzaryan and Robrand were already distant figures, well on their way back to the looming bulk of Tzaryan Keep. The old man and the ogre mage had made much better time through the long passage than their wounded group had. He looked back at the others and counted the toll that their confrontation had taken. He felt weak, his very spirit lashed by Hruucan’s draining touch. Dandra was battered and bruised and looked utterly exhausted. Geth was as bloody as a surgeon and held his gauntlet arm gingerly. Natrac looked pale and drained. Thanks to Ekhaas’s magic, Orshok was conscious again, but the druid would need more healing before he could walk-Ekhaas and Ashi carried him between them. Only the hunter and the hobgoblin had escaped injury.

And injuries weren’t the highest price they had paid. Although they’d been strangely vague about how they’d come to join together and make their escape from Tzaryan Keep, Dandra and Geth had told him everything they’d discovered in the caves. Singe looked up at the moons and stars overheard, at the Ring of Siberys bright in the southern sky, and tried to hold back a grimace. He failed.

“What is it?” Dandra asked.

Singe’s shoulders slumped and he looked back at her. “We’re back where we were after the Bonetree mound,” he said. “Dah’mir is gone and we’re helpless.”

“He probably thinks we’re dead this time, though,” said Natrac. “We don’t have to worry about him looking for us-or for Dandra.”

“I’d rather he was,” Dandra said. She planted the charred shaft of her spear in the ground. “It would mean I was still his only link to raising a new line of servants for his master. Now he’s got Taruuzh’s stones.”

A wave of exhaustion passed through Singe. A big chunk of mortared stones torn from Taruuzh Kraat’s walls lay nearby. He sat down on it and rested his forehead on his palms. His fingers tangled in his hair. “We were so close. We found out so much and Dah’mir still beat us. Now we’ve lost him again. It’s just like before. He’s gone and we don’t know where he is.”

“We have a clue though,” said Geth.

Singe raised his head sharply to look at the shifter. The others turned to look at him as well. Geth put his hand on the hilt of his Dhakaani sword. “It looks like Goblin isn’t the only language Wrath understands. Whatever language that was that Dah’mir spoke to Hruucan in before he and Vennet vanished, Wrath put his words into my head. Dah’mir told Hruucan to meet him in the bright blade after we were dead.”

“The bright blade?” Singe asked. “What’s that?”

“Not what,” said Ekhaas. “Where. Wrath translated Dah’mir’s words too well.” The hobgoblin raised her head proudly. “In Goblin, ‘bright blade’ is ja’shaarat-and Ja’shaarat was one of the greatest cities of the Empire of Dhakaan.”

“Where is it?” asked Geth.

“Beneath a human city,” Ekhaas said. “Ja’shaarat became the foundations of Sharn.”

“Light of il-Yannah.” Horror bloomed on Dandra’s face. “Sharn holds the largest population of kalashtar in Khorvaire! That must be why Dah’mir’s gone there.” She stood straight. “We have to stop him. We have to warn the kalashtar.”

“Kalashtar aren’t the only ones in danger.” Orshok struggled to sit up in Ekhaas’s and Ashi’s arms. His eyes were bright and sharp with lingering pain, but determined as well. “The Gatekeepers need to know that the Master of Silence is active!”

Singe sucked in his breath and looked at Dandra and Geth. “Which one?”

“Both,” Geth said grimly. “We’re going to have to split up.” His eyes shifted between Singe and Dandra. “You two go to Sharn. I’ll go to the Shadow Marches with Orshok and find Batul.” He glanced at Ashi. “You know the Marches, too-”

The hunter shook her head. “I need to stay with Dandra,” she said. She held up her free hand and the swirls of her dragonmark seemed to dance in the moonlight. “I’m the only one who can protect her from Dah’mir’s power.”

“I’ll go to Sharn, too,” said Natrac. The half-orc moved to stand beside Singe. “It’s been a while, but I still know the city.”

Singe nodded. Geth growled under his breath. “Two of us. I guess it doesn’t take more than that to carry news-”

“Three,” Ekhaas said abruptly. Geth started and Singe raised his eyebrows. Ekhaas’s ears twitched back. “I know the stories,” she said. “Someone needs to tell the Gatekeepers their history.”

Geth spread his hands. “Three, then.”

Singe felt a plan rising inside him, pushing back the despair he had felt only moments before. They weren’t helpless anymore and Dah’mir hadn’t gotten away from them after all-at least not entirely. They still had a task ahead of them. He pushed himself up from his seat. “We can take the road back to Vralkek,” he said. “We’ll be there in a few days and we should be able to find some kind of transport to Sharn and Zarash’ak.”

Ekhaas shook her head. “Unless you find a Lyrandar elemental galleon again, a ship to Zarash’ak will take you almost as long as traveling overland.” She pointed off to the northwest. “I know this part of Droaam. I can get us to the edge of the Shadow Marches.”

“And I know the Marches,” said Orshok. “We can travel fast. Going back to Vralkek would be a waste of time for us.”

Silence fell over the group as the druid’s words sank into each of them. “So,” said Dandra after a moment, “we part here.”

“Aye,” said Geth. “I suppose so. After we collect our gear from the keep.” He rocked from foot to foot uncomfortably. “I’ll send a message if I can. House Orien post from Zarash’ak to Sharn.”

“Send it to the Deneith enclave in Deathsgate district. I know a Blademarks recruiter there.” Singe looked at Geth-then swallowed his pride and stepped up to the shifter. “Geth, I’m sorry for what I said in Tzaryan’s dungeon. I shouldn’t have told everyone about Narath like that.”

Geth stiffened and Singe hurried to force out everything he wanted to say. “You weren’t ready to talk and I wasn’t ready to listen. I think I am now. Whatever happened in Narath, I’ve realized something. I know you’re no coward.” He spread his arms and said again, “I’m sorry.”

For a moment, Geth just stared at him with hard, flat eyes and Singe wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all.

Then Geth lunged forward, wrapping his arms around him, and squeezing him in a rib-cracking embrace. “Took you long enough, you bastard!” he said. Singe wheezed from the pressure and staggered when Geth let him go, but the shifter swung an arm around his shoulders and held him up, leaning close to murmur in his ear, “Tak.”

“You’re welcome.” Singe straightened up painfully.